That need to follow my heart
would contain the same energy
when once glancing upon art
we could laugh upon our synergy.
Remember playing out loud in eye
beyond our own, we stole away
stealth hallways on some marble why
hidden benches in our clever way.
I traveled a snowy mystique near morn,
tonight feeling familiar folds of our once
sweet embrace moonlit, quiet, forlorn
is song playing in my head a chance.
While an emptiness seems forever drawn,
hope alive is a spiritual guide withdrawn.
© Scott F Savage 2019